Return to the Garden
by yunikka24
Summary: Mary returns to Misselthwaite Manor after three years away. She finds on her return that some things have changed, including her feelings for Dickon. MxD
1. Coming Home

Mary sat in the carriage as it trundled towards Misselthwaite Manor without fidgeting one bit. Three years at a girls preparatory school had broken that habit, when every other move she made was met with a reprimand or, occasionally, a smack with a ruler. No, she sat quite still, just as she had on her first trip to Misselthwaite, and stared out the window into the darks, drizzly night. Her body may have been still, but her mind was racing. She hadn't been home in three whole years. How was that possible? Well, she thought, it was quite simple. The students were only allowed to return home once a year, around Christmastime, for one month, unless an emergency called for their immediate return home. The rest of the time, they were at school. The first winter, Mary had been rather ill. The second winter, the whole country had been shut down by snow for the first week of the girls' vacation and most had deemed it unwise to return the next week and by the third week it wasn't worth the trouble for Mary to return home. Last winter, Mary had realized she would be returning home in the Spring and had decided to travel back and forth between her friends' homes. It had started with one friend inviting her to come for Christmas and then another and eventually four separate girls had invited Mary to visit and so, she spent about a week with each girl. It had been quite delightful. Mary had liked school quite a bit and it had done well for her. She had made friends with students and teachers alike and had done well in nearly all her classes (except for singing--Mary apparently had very little singing ability). But she was ready to go home. She was seventeen now, and girls over seventeen weren't allowed to attend the school, but even more than that, she missed home. Uncle Archie and Collin had visited her at school the winter she was ill and during a holiday weekend last year, but she missed them all the same. She also missed Martha, whom she had kept in touch with through letters. But most of all, she could not wait to see Dickon and her garden. How had her garden changed without her there? Was it still as beautiful as when she had left? She wasn't afraid it had died or anything because Martha and Colin had assured her of its safety through their correspondence and she was sure that Dickon would never have abandoned it and surely nothing could die if Dickon cared for it. Had he changed? She hadn't seen or corresponded with Dickon for three years. Martha often spoke of him in her letters, but mostly things like "Dickon found a baby goat yesterday on the Moor" or "Dickon came by the Manor yesterday and we had tea". Never a word about if Dickon had changed at all. Surely he must've: taller, probably broader, perhaps his voice had changed, or perhaps he had still looked exactly the same: round red cheeks, only an inch taller than her, thinner than he should be, a slight smile adorning his face nearly all the time. Sometimes, when she had been at school, she had lay in bed at night thinking about Dickon and wondering what he was doing, or if he ever thought about her.

"Mary," a voice shook her out of her thoughts. "We're only a couple minutes away. Are you ready to be back home?" Mrs. Medlock looked at her oddly. Last time she had ridden this road with Mary had been three years ago and they had been going the other direction. On that ride, she had chatted amiably and the closer they had gotten, the more she had fidgeted. But now, the girl sat stock still staring out the window. Not in the hard little way she had on their first trip to Misselthwaite, but in a wondering, dreamy sort of way. Mrs. Medlock knew the girl was thinking about something or someone, but couldn't guess as to what.

Mary stirred herself from her thoughts and realized how quiet she had been. It was time to talk. She would think more later that night. "Oh. Yes, of course Mrs. Medlock. I've missed home for three years and I'm ready to be back." Some questions suddenly occurred to Mary and she addressed them to Mrs. Medlock. "Will I still be staying in the same rooms? And is Colin still in that same dark, dreary room? What's changed since I've been away?"

Mrs. Medlock blinked at Mary, startled. She hadn't expected to start a conversation, she was only telling Mary to ready herself. She shook herself mentally, but outwardly only blinked again. "Well, Miss Mary," she began, her tone businesslike, "you'll certainly be in the same rooms, unless you wish to move. Master Colin did change rooms last year. Said he didn't like the memories of the old room. Said they embarrassed him -- all those wasted years laying around sullen and useless, when he could have been running around like a normal child." Mary opened her mouth to defend her cousin, but Mrs. Medlock held up a hand in defense, cutting her off. "His words, miss, not mine. I memorized 'em so I would'na be bothered comin' up with me own." Mary smiled and settled back and Mrs. Medlock continued returning to her business-like tone. "Not much has changed since you left, miss. Most of the changes happened before you went off to school. Master Colin is learning how to take over the Manor and run it, but I've heard from the servants, who heard it from Martha, what heard it from Dickon, that he wishes to attend University and travel for a few years before assuming the responsibilities of running Misselthwaite. Not that there's too much he has yet to learn, but we'll see. I don't suppose Master Craven will deny him his wish. It would only be a couple of years, either way." She paused as the carriage jostled to a halt. "We must be here, Miss Mary." She paused. "Welcome home."


	2. Greetings

Mary grabbed her umbrella as the carriage door opened and putting it out before her, stepped down onto the drive. Standing in the doorway to the manor, just barely visible in the dim light, were Uncle Archie and Colin, there to greet her. Mary smiled and stepped forward. She shook out her umbrella as she stepped into the house and handed it to an unknown maid. It surprised her that she didn't know the servant. Before she had left, she had been on first-name basis with most of the servants and at least recognized the rest, but here was one she didn't know at all. 'How many new servants are there?' she thought. 'How many of the ones I knew are still here?' But Mary let the thought slide from her mind and greeted her uncle and cousin happily, hugging them both tightly.

"Mary, glad to have you home again," her Uncle said as he kissed her cheek. "How was your trip?"

Mary smiled at her uncle. "It was fine, Uncle Archie. I'm very glad to be home. I missed being at the manor. How is my garden?"

"Just fine, as far as I know," chimed in Colin, "but I haven't been there in a couple of days. Perhaps everything has burned up in the sun in the last three days," he teased sarcastically. "You know that Dickon never pays any attention to growing things. He's such an irresponsible boy."

Mary glared at him, but the glare soon broke into a grin. "I'm going to tell Dickon you said that."

"Don't," replied Colin seriously, not realizing Mary was joking. "It might hurt his feelings, since he didn't hear it in context."

"I suppose you're right," Mary sighed theatrically. "We mustn't hurt Dickon's feelings." She smiled again. She doubted Dickon would believe her if she told him that Colin had said such a thing, so she wasn't really worried about hurting his feelings, but nevertheless she would refrain from telling this story to Dickon just in case. Mary coughed lightly as a thought occurred to her. "Do you think Dickon will be in the garden tomorrow?" she asked, her cheeks turning slightly pinker. 'My it's warm in here', she thought, telling herself that was the cause of her blush and not the subject of her question.

Colin nodded. "Oh, I suppose so," he replied. "He knew that you were coming home today, so I suppose he'll be wanting to be in the garden in case you go out there, so he can answer all your questions."

"Questions?" Mary inquired.

"Yeah, you know, about the flowers and the trees and such. It looks a bit different than the last time you were here, I'm sure, and you'll have a question about every little change: why did you do this, how did you do that. You know how you are."

Mary scowled, but before she could reply, Uncle Archie broke into the conversation. "I'm sure you two could continue to trade words all night, but Mary is probably tired from her journey. Go on up to your rooms. If you're hungry, ask Martha to get you something from the kitchens. I assumed you still want Martha as your maid?" Mary nodded. "Very good. That works out well then. Please meet Colin and I for lunch tomorrow in the dining room. And I'd like to speak with both of you afterwards, so please don't make any plans for about an hour after lunch." Mary nodded again. "Sleep well, Mary. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch." Uncle Archie turned to Colin. "Leave her be for now and go to bed yourself. We've got to get up early tomorrow and go over the expenses. Goodnight."

Colin nodded. "Yes, Father. Good night. And goodnight to you as well Mary. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Yes. Goodnight Uncle Archie, Colin." Mary smiled at her family as they walked away and then turned towards her own rooms.

-----

Mary stopped in front of her door and took a breath. She hoped nothing had changed since she had last been in these rooms three years ago. The new unrecognized maid had been enough of a change for her that night. She put a hand on the doorknob and turned it, pushing open it her door. There, kneeling in front of the fire, raking the ashes, was Martha, just like the first time Mary had seen her. Mary smiled.

Martha turned at the noise from the door and broke into a wide grin. "Eh! take look at thee!" Martha cried. "I never saw the like! All grown up and beautiful, you are. Eh, I missed thee." And with that, Martha stood up and Mary walked forward and hugged her maid, like she had just reunited with a long-lost sister. Mary had missed Martha's strange way of speaking. She simply loved Yorkshire and at school, no one had spoken anything like it, all the young ladies and the instructors, being or pretending to be too well bred for such talk. "Are you hungry?" she inquired. "Do you need anything right now."

Mary smiled. "I wouldn't mind some tea. And then we can sit down and chat for a little bit. You can tell Mrs. Medlock that you're helping me unpack," Mary said, indicating the two trunks stacked off to the side.

Martha grinned and nodded. "I'll be right back." And with that she walked out. When she returned, she had tea and a plate of small cakes. As she began pouring the teak, Martha explained, "The cook made these special for your return. She thought, despite your protests that you might be a bit hungry. She also said to tell you, if your hungrier than that, she has some ham you might like, but I told her you probably wouldn't ask me to go back for it." Martha paused. "Meaning no disrespect, Miss Mary. I'll go back for it if you wish."

"Don't be ridiculous, Martha," Mary said, taking the hot cup of tea and stirring in a lump of sugar. "And stop with the Miss Mary. Before I left, you just called me Mary and I won't have you starting with Miss again. Why are you being so formal? I thought we were past that."

Martha smiled. "Eh, I knew you weren't like that. Mrs. Medlock had said that you would be different know that you'd been all polished up for three years. That you'd be expecting a more-proper maid. One that's not so common. But I didn't think so. And I'm glad that I was right. I'm glad you're back Mary."

"I'm glad to. So let's chat about the changes that have occurred while I've been gone. How many new servants are there and who's left the manor? Tell me everything."

Mary and Martha spoke for about twenty minutes, before Martha began unpacking Mary's clothes for real. Mary helped, taking the clothes out of the trunk, while Martha put them away. They continued to share stories and news and when Martha was done, she left Mary for the night and Mary headed to bed. Her last thought before she fell asleep was, 'I hope Dickon's in the garden tomorrow.'


	3. Dickon

Sorry about the delay, folks. I am still working on this story and do plan to finish it, there will just be considerable delay between updates. I'm sorry and thank you for all the kind words and encouragement. Thanks!

* * *

Mary woke early the next morning. The sun was just starting to rise as she rolled out of bed. She breathed in the scent of the manor, her second favorite smell in the world - the first being freshly turned earth. The manor was a mix of wood, clean linens, and old books. She quickly dressed, and as she was tying on her boots, Martha walked into the room bearing a tray of food.

"I knew thee'd be up. Can't wait to see your garden, can you?" Martha grinned as she sat the tray on the table and began setting the dishes in their proper places. "But before you leave, eat something. Lunch is a long time away."

Mary did as she was told, eating a bowl of porridge with milk and cinnamon and a biscuit before grabbing an apple and rushing outside. She couldn't run. It wasn't proper for someone of her age, but she walked as quickly as would be permitted by her etiquette teachers. She quickly came to the door of the secret garden (she still liked to think of it that way) and pushed open the door.

She had half-expected him to be standing on the other side, awaiting her arrival. But he wasn't immediately visible and she felt disappointment rushing through her. She chided herself for feeling so downhearted and then looked at the garden. It was splendid -- three years had really been too long to stay away. It had blossomed beyond all she could have imagined. She awed at the view before her: fountains of roses and winding paths, surrounded by wildly contained flowerbeds and bushes. The large old, dead oak trees had been wrapped in roses with other flowered vines interspersed here and there. Combined with the blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, and the sounds of robins and fat, happy bees, it seemed like Heaven. How could anything be better?

Her musings had caused her to wander through the garden's paths, lost in wonder. She rounded a large rose-wrapped tree and there he was, kneeling in a flowerbed facing away from her. He must have heard her walking because even though she stood stock-still, he spoke: "Hello, Miss Mary."

Her heart felt as though it were about to beat right through her chest, and she put the reaction down to surprise. He had caught her by surprise, as she had begun to suspect that he wasn't even in the garden at all that morning. Then around the corner she walked and there he was, just as he'd been 3 years ago. But as he stood up and turned toward her, she couldn't help thinking that perhaps he wasn't _just as he'd been all those years ago. They stood quietly for a moment, facing each other and observing the changes in each other's appearances. When she had left, Dickon had been about 16, handsome, but certainly not half the man that he was now. He had still been round- and rosy-cheeked, about her height and rather scrawny. Now he was a well-built man: she could just imagine the muscles that were formed under the white button-up he wore, his suspenders keeping the shirt close to his body. She could also see that he would now be several inches taller than her. His face was less round, but still pleasantly rosy, though it was harder to tell through the stubble that grew on his cheeks. His green eyes sparkled at her as she nearly gasped at his handsome face._

_Dickon's mind had also been stopped temporarily by the vision that Mary presented. He remembered her as young and pretty. The woman he saw before him no longer wore sundresses with matching bows in her hair, but was dressed as a woman with a long, high-waisted black skirt that showed her figure, and a dark-red short-sleeved blouse that hugged her curves well. But her face seemed nearly the same, just as beautiful as it had been before she had left, though a bit more sculpted. Her cheekbones were well cut and her lips and cheeks were beautifully colored. Her blue-green eyes stared back at him and her dark-brown curls were twisted up, small tendrils falling here and there. He noticed her stare and then he saw her face light up with a smile._

"_Dickon!" she cried and, forgetting all propriety, raced toward him. He caught her the moment she stumbled into him, having forgotten her long, impractical skirt. "Oof", his breath was pushed out as Mary crashed into him. He kept his balance, and his arms wrapped around her, to keep her from falling farther (at least, that's what he told himself)._

_She beamed up at him, her heart pounding as he held her against him, his chest pressed against her own. He grinned back at her. "Miss Mary," he breathed out in a whisper, almost as if he couldn't believe she was there. She was aware of the exact moment he realized their position: his eyes widened slightly and a blush spread across his face. "Ah, Miss Mary," he said as he helped her to steady herself. She smiled wider as his blush spread. "Welcome back, Miss Mary. Tis good to see you," he murmured quietly_

"_You as well, Dickon," she murmured back. Dickon smiled and his blush faded a bit, though not completely. They stood for a moment, smiling at each other, at a loss for words._

"_Would you like to me to show you the garden?" Dickon asked breaking the silence._

"_Yes, of course, please," Mary replied._

_And they walked around the garden, Dickon pointing out things he had added or changed ever so slightly since Mary had been gone questing for her approval. And then, answering questions that Mary had about this and that. They strolled for an hour pouring over the details of the garden and then they came to Mary's favorite part of the garden._

_Mary smiled at Dickon as she sat on the swing hanging from the largest tree in the garden. She sighed happily. "I'm so glad to be back." She smiled and tilted her head back, basking in the warmth of the sun that peeked past the branches, as she pushed off the ground to begin swinging, stretching her legs out in front of her. "It's been so long since I've been on a swing" and she laughed freely. Dickon stood smiling at her, glad that she was still the happy, independent girl that he remembered. He had feared slightly that she would be too busy or proper to enjoy the garden anymore. But his fears had been completely unfounded, which he was glad to know. She slowed her swinging and smiled at him. He strolled behind her and began pushing the swing gently. Mary giggled and let herself swing back and forth._

_Dickon pushed her for a few minutes and then let her slow down, holding the ropes and he steadied the swing. She twisted around and smiled up at him. He smiled gently back down at her and Mary felt a tingling in her stomach. Her breath became shallow and her heart sped up as she felt the intensity of his gaze. And then, she panicked. _

"_Dickon," she spoke loudly and squeakily. Dickon blinked and his eyes lost their intensity and became soft and friendly, instead of fiery hot. "I should probably go back now," she squeaked again. She cleared her throat as Dickon's smile faded a bit. "I mean…I said that I would go back to the house for lunch. Uncle Archie wanted Colin and I to have lunch with him today. He said he wanted to speak to us…" she trailed off._

_Dickon frowned gently, unhappy that she had to leave, and Mary was afraid she had upset him. "I'll come back. I promise. Either this afternoon, or tomorrow morning". _

_At this, Dickon smiled again. "That's fine Miss Mary. I look forward to seeing you again. I will be here."_

_Mary smiled back at him sadly and stood up. She walked down the path and looked back right as she was about to turn out of view. Dickon was watching her. She smiled again and turned away, walking out of view._


End file.
